Lyra Parish - Weak for Him

"Maybe spanked, if it wasn't too hard. I don't want to bleed or anything. Oh, I always imagined having sex in water would be interesting."

"I want to know your dark fantasies."

He straightened, and moved closer to me.

"The ones that you keep secret from everyone. The ones you've never spoken out loud."

My throat went dry. Thoughts of being spanked, bound, and blindfolded floated in my mind. I would be willing to try anything, be willing to explore the dark side at least once.

"I want to be taken," I whispered.

"Taken. Mmm. Tell me how."

A piece of hair fell in front of my face, and Mr. Felton tucked it behind my ear. His touch was so gentle and slight as if I was a glass doll and would break. I blushed, and my face went warm. The conversation wouldn't end until I told him what I wanted. I had learned that in his office.

"Trust, Jennifer. Rule number one."

"Trust isn't the issue. I just don't know what I want, and it's kind of embarrassing," I said. We spoke low enough that our words could have been lost in a cool autumn breeze.

"Don't be embarrassed if you don't know what you want. It's not allowed," he said, his voice smooth like honey. I nodded my head.

"I'd like my arms to be held down or tied where I can't move them. Or even a scenario with blindfolds, and ice. My best friend told me about one of her exes. How he would spank her, bind her, and speak dirty to her while he was fucking her hard. Then he teased her with ice around her nipples and up her legs. It sounded hot. Hot enough for me to want to do it."

"My little experimental virgin."

His touch trailed down the outside of my arms, leaving goose bumps along the way. The talk about my secret fantasies made me want it.

"I think your real training will start tonight."

His fingers ran through my hair and down my neck. My body responded instantaneously. Grabbing my hand, Mr. Felton led me down the hall to the basement. But before entering, he stopped.

"You're ready, yeah?"

"As I will ever be." I peered into his eyes, thinking I might get lost in them.

"Do you want to obey me?"

"Yes… sir."

The truth was, I did. I wanted to know what it felt like to lose control, and be controlled. And to experience more of the person that placed my first orgasm in his pocket, the man who gave me Vegas and let me believe it could all be mine.

"I like that." He grabbed the bottom of my chin between his fingers. "Continue to call me that."

"Yes, sir."

"Trust, Jennifer."

He opened the basement door, and we walked down a set of stairs. A bed with fluffy blankets, a chair, floggers of all different lengths and sizes, ropes, blindfolds, and other things filled the room. I had no clue what half of it was or did.

My insides melted. I wasn't afraid of the training room, but curious. I stopped and tried to take in every inch. Without turning around, Mr. Felton gave the first command.

"Take off your clothes. Slowly. I want to watch you."

I took in a deep breath as he sat in a red suede chair with ropes slung behind them. A sparkle appeared in his eye, and I knew he enjoyed commanding me. Truth be known, I enjoyed being commanded.

The dress had long buttons down the front, and I worked my way from top to bottom, making sure to take my time.

"Look at me when you do it."

My eyes locked with his as I unbuttoned the last ones and the silk slipped off my shoulders. After a few more clasps, my bra fell to the floor. He groaned deeply with approval as he took me in.

One leg after another, I slipped out of my panties, lifted them, and then dropped them on the floor. I bent down to remove the straps from my heels until I wore absolutely nothing. He clenched his jaw and swallowed. My insides convulsed as I stared at him.

"Walk towards me."

Once in front of him, I could see the faint outline of the erection in his pants. Commanding me turned him on, and knowing that turned me on.

"Straddle me."

I swallowed and wrapped my legs around him.

Oh god. His hardness rubbed against me, driving me crazy.

"Move against me. As if you were having sex."

I drove my hips into him, and my breathing increased. New and different, and alive, so turned on that I wanted to go further. A moan escaped me from the simple pleasure of his friction between me. I ran my fingers through his messy hair as I grinded slowly against him. The more I moved, the harder I pushed myself onto him. With a swift movement, he grabbed my hands from his hair and held my wrists behind my back. I had lost control.

"You do as I say, not as you want."

Being restricted made me want it more. He leaned his head closer to my breasts and flicked each nipple with his strong tongue.

I couldn't help but let another moan escape.

"Mmm. I can smell your sweetness. Do you like this?"

"Yes, sir ." The words fell from my mouth, and I became putty in his hands. With my arms still behind my back, I continued to move my hips on him. He released my arms.

"Go to the bed." Without hesitation, I removed myself from him. But I could feel the ache between my legs as I walked.

I wanted to be fucked.

"I want to see you touch yourself."

This was it, I thought. Heat rushed up my body and found my cheeks. Every bit of my face went warm as I responded.

"Yes, sir."

He smiled with sweet delight.

I let my hands slowly trail over my breasts, down my stomach, until they found themselves in between. Nervously, I opened my legs and let my fingers slide up and down, feeling the wetness. Mr. Felton did this to me. Made me want to be taken.

"I don't want you to come until I tell you to and when you're close, back away."

I took my time as I explored and learned my body. He watched me search and pleasure myself sexually. His eyes were on me, and I took my time touching, moaning, and allowing my toes to curl when I got close. But I didn't come as he instructed although I wanted to so bad. Each time I hit my peak, I panted and pinched my nipples, hoping my body would calm down.

I had never been so turned on.

I tilted my head to get a good look at him. He took off his shirt, and I couldn't stop staring at his lean stomach muscles that looked as if they were chiseled from rock. Mr. Felton walked to the bed and forced opened my legs. Pushing his erection onto me, he slammed my wrists above my head. The roughness, a pure sexually driven act of dominance that mingled with lust, was bad news. The desire to let loose and be completely physical overcame me as he trailed his fingers along my collarbone. Then he was touching me in all the right places, allowing my orgasm to build, my pulse to race, and my breath to quicken.

"Please, sir. Give it to me." My body begged for satisfaction. I begged for satisfaction.

Mr. Felton was on top of me, his body above mine, and he was staring into my eyes.

"Is this how you imagined it? Being taken?" He didn't move, but the pressure on me, encouraged me to wrap my legs around him.

"Exactly," I choked out, breathless.

"You're so wet, so turned on, so ready to be fucked," he whispered, soft and sensually, in my ear. His lips were close to my neck, trailing up and down, taking little nibbles along the way. The smell of fresh soap and man lingered.

"I want it so bad," I whispered in his ear. "I can barely stand it."

"Good," he said, deep and raspy.

He lay next to me on the bed and propped himself up with one elbow and trailed his fingers over my body lightly before pulling something out of the drawer next to the bed. He returned with a black silky material in his hands. With great care, he wrapped it over my eyes and the room went dark.

With soft fingertips, he trailed up the side of my body and stomach. The feel of his touch intensified because I couldn't see him. I almost lost myself in it. With one finger, he crossed my mouth and traced my bottom lip with his, and then continued down my jawline. My body instantly responded. The next thing I knew, one nipple was in his mouth, and his tongue circled the tip and flicked it around. I almost couldn't handle myself. Handfuls of sheets and blanket were in my grasp. He pulled away, groaned, and kissed down my stomach with his soft, luscious lips. Behind this tiger of a man was someone gentle, sensitive, and sexually driven.